


The Black Spot On the Clean Table Cloth

by XxJadedKuroTenshixX



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Gen, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:42:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XxJadedKuroTenshixX/pseuds/XxJadedKuroTenshixX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>America hears insults aimed at him day after day and it doesn't faze him. Or does it? What if on the inside, it tears America apart? What if America is only trying to stay strong for his country? But what about America? When he hears it from others day in day out and starts to believe it, what would happen? Would America still withstand self-loathing? Or would his self-hatred consume until there's nothing but a shell of a man? </p>
<p>Is America a Black Stain On the Clean Table Cloth or is the table cloth black?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Black Spot On the Clean Table Cloth

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah. I'm sorry. This sucks but I just wanted to try it out. Yay!
> 
> One-shot that needed coming out!
> 
> I considered deleting this but I decided to post instead.
> 
> I'm sorry. I'm lazy so I'm not going to put America's thoughts in italics. Myeh~

Poor Canada. Everyone had been ignoring him while he raised his hand patiently. From time to time, he would sway slightly side to side to try and subtly draw attention to himself. He seemed pretty intent on saying what needed to be said. No matter what though, the end result was the same: Canada was ignored. Instead, the countries at the world meeting decided it would be another pointless one full of arguing. Before I could continue anymore of my observant pondering, the countries started their insults war.

"America, you're such a pig." France spat.

I looked over at France with a confused smile. I suppose I should try and act composed and collected, right? I am America, Alfred F. Jones. "Why might you think that France?" I asked. I know it already. I don't understand why you're so keen on pointing out my flaws.

"I mean, you're just so fat Amerique." I rolled my eyes. How should I cover this up? I must never let go of my resolve to stay America, the land of the free. I need to appear positive for my people. I need to think up something eccentric! Yeah! I looked over at France with my hero stance and said, "You know, you only say that because your jealous of how much great food I have."

England rolled his eyes as he joined our 'conversation' with,"What are you saying, you sod? Your food sucks. It causes heart attacks." England then gave a harsh glare and returned to his work. "Please just get back to the point of this meeting."

My food sucks? My food? Hah. He must have hit his head hard. Whatever. I'll just overlook that one just this once. "Yeah, sure. Your jealous too Iggy." I rolled my eyes and say back down.

But as the meeting proceeded, I couldn't stop thinking about it. Am I really fat? I never really dwelled on it...

~•~

As I walked outside of the meeting and to my car, Canada intercepted me.

"Hey America, can I talk with you for a minute?" I looked over at him and noticed how angry he looked. Oh joy. I wonder what pushed his buttons... I guided him to my car and opened the passenger side door. "Sure lil' bro'. Why don't we take a drive?" I answered smoothly. "Sure," was the answer I received as he sat down and buckled up. I hope that he's okay. I repeated that action when I opened my own door.

After starting up the car and pulling out of the parking lot, he began his rant on what had upset him so much. "America, why do you hate me so much?" I was confused. Was that it? A question? Why would he think I hate him? That's ridiculous.

"Lil' bro', you know I don't think that, I love you." I answered honestly. Canada glared over at me and spat, "You clearly don't get my point." I really don't bro...what's wrong with him? Did I do something I shouldn't have? He continued to glare at me and gritted,"You always make sure no one can see me! Do you see what you are doing to me? It hurts!" I gripped the steering wheel harder with a thinner smile on my face.

Ouch. Well, maybe it was the truth...? Did I really do that? I didn't notice it hurt him so much to not be noticed. I'm sorry Matty... He kept on spitting fire though. "You never think or care about others! Especially your own brother! You've even hurt England by your insincerity! Why must you be so rude?! Even your citizens!!" My lips started to fall from an thin upturned smile to a line.

I pressed my teeth against each other and I glared at the road. Way to go Matty. Just what I needed: a negative pep-talk. I suck as a person and a country. "Drop me off. I don't want to spend another second with you. Your such a nuisance." After a shaky sigh, he finished the rant with this,"I'm ashamed I'm even related to you."

My hands loosened up and my grimace transformed from frustrated to confused. "Do you hate me Mattie?" I shakily asked as I drove up to the hotel with tears threatening to spill from my murky eyes. He opened the door and jumped out and turned toward me with a glare. "I think at this moment of time I do." And then he slammed the door.

I sat in silence for a while in thought. Why? He always seemed calm and happy. He has been stressed out because of his bad economy and my country's interference but...he has always meant what he said...

I sniffled into my arm as I was consumed in thought. Are those things true...about America...? About me...? I sat there just entranced in thought about Canada.

Suddenly, a ringing consumed the silence of the car. "Hello?" I sang half heartedly into the phone. "America, can we have another world meeting? I never got to discuss my countries problems yet and it is very urgent." The voice sounded a little like Lithuania but I decided it didn't matter who it was.

"Sure bro'." I said a little sadly. I wish I could just be the amazing hero I need to be. "Are you okay America?" The voice asked, sounding concerned. I realized my façade was breaking. "Yeah." I answered and hung up. I noticed streaks of a wet, salty substance on my cheeks. I looked in my car mirror and realized I had been crying.

Since when had my smile been fake? I started to sob and rested my head on the wheel of the car. I'm not okay at all. Why can't I show that? I have to stay America...that's why. I can't be just Alfred, just me.

~•~

At the next world meeting, I heard more insults that put more chips into my unbreakable armor.

Pig.

Fat.

Useless.

Lazy.

Stupid.

Ignorant.

Insignificant.

Annoying.

Me.

The more I sat in that chair, the more I started to believe what they were saying.

I do sell fast food.

Fat.

I do pig out on food whenever I can.

Pig.

I can only hurt people.

Useless.

I have no motivation.

Lazy.

I don't know how to help people.

Stupid.

I didn't know I was hurting my brothers.

Ignorant.

No one cares about me.

Insignificant.

People always cringe when I speak.

Annoying.

My face changed into one of deep concentration as I pondered these things. Why must I be so...so...

"America!" Germany shouted. I looked up and met his fearful eyes. "Yes?" I asked in a foreign tone. He tried exchanged glances with England but he looked too busy with his paperwork to notice.

"Ehem, you seemed to be spacing out. Are you okay?" Germany asked, genuine concern written on his face. I looked around and everyone else seemed preoccupied with previous conversations. No one noticed. Good.

"M' fine. Just tired." I answered weakly and laid my head on the table. Then, the meeting proceeded to be a waste of time. Occasionally, England, Russia, France, China, or Canada would say some snarky comment about my citizens or my country, but, at that point, it didn't matter anymore.

The end of the meeting came and England alongside Canada came up to me. Ugh. Please, not now... England started with, "Hey lad. I just wanted to say-" I cut him off. I can't... "I don't care." He looked up at me with those emerald orbs that used to provide comfort. They seemed to be looking for an answer to my avoidance. "I don't want to hear what you have to say. You too Canada." And with that, I walked out.

As I walked towards my car, tears painted my dry face. I don't need to hear any pretty words from you all... I've heard how you really feel now.

~•~

I sat on my bed at home in deep thought. How can I make myself more worthwhile? More useful... I need to do something. Something... I can't keep this up...

With that, I grabbed a beer and locked myself in my room. I fell asleep shortly after breaking down.

~•~

I woke up the next morning with a hang over. Ah crap. I drank till I dropped. I sat up, moved towards the closet, and rummaged through my drawers for a change of clothes. As I got my tank off, I grabbed my clothes and headed for the shower. I took off my boxers, stepped into the shower, and turned on the hot water.

I still haven't solved the problem. Why must I feel so...useless? Ugh. I don't deserve anything do I? I can't do anything right. I shut of the water and turned to face myself in the mirror.

"You useless piece of shit!" And I threw my towel at the mirror. Unsatisfied, I threw toothbrushes, brushes, glasses, medicine, shoes, anything I could get my hands on at the mirror. Of course, the mirror shattered. I noticed the one thing I didn't throw: the razor.

That's true, I can use that. I always heard people did this to cope...I grabbed the razor and presses it against my wrist.

Should I be doing this? I doubted myself before I committed the deed. No. This might be it! My motivation. My usefulness. My knowledge. My modesty. What would it hurt to try? With that, I sliced into my arm. I both gasped and flinched at the first on, but it slowly got easier. After three on both wrists, I cleaned the razor and put it away. I wrapped my red cuts with white bandages, cleaned my bathroom, and threw away the broken mirror.

After all was done, I fell asleep. Why did I do that again? I don't even remember anymore.

~•~

That day at the world meeting had been a train wreck. England and Canada decided they weren't going to approach me anymore—thank goodness—and they fiercely chatted with France. France said something to England, which made the Briton mad, and England tried to slap France. Instead, he slapped Canada after France ducked to maneuver away from the blow. The scene was hilarious. Not only that, there were little bouts of insults and fights going around the room. My only thought was, 'What hope does the world have?'

"Hey Amerika!" Russia squealed over the chaos with a bottle of vodka in hand. I looked at the disoriented man with a fake smile plastered on my ugly face. "Yes Russia?" I asked innocently. He marched up to me and accused, "You killed my country Amerika. We are dying. My vodka wants revenge." And he swung it at my head. I was completely caught off guard, so I couldn't dodge it.

After the impact, I landed on the ground. The scene morphed. Apparently, at some point, I had begun to laugh and I offended some countries with that chuckle.

"You think this is funny you Git?"

"America! You owe me a debt! Make yourself useful and pay me!"

"Help me solve my problems Mr. America."

"You must love ruining my life."

"The truth is that you've always hated us."

"You should leave America."

"Go."

As the world distorted into one that caused me mental agony, I jumped from my spot on the floor and backed up.

"We all hate you you know."

"Go away."

My eyes shot open. Oh God. I was dreaming. "America!" England shouted in anger. "What?!" I screamed back frazzled and irritated.

England looked me up and down and continued, "What is going on with you?! You git! You're falling asleep in meetings now?! Did I raise you to be like this?! No! Get your act together before I-" Stop. Just stop.

Before I could do anything, Canada covered England's mouth. "Brother-" he started. "no..." I whispered. "I...can't...." I choked out. "Brother!" The moment he released England to come to me, I ran. Rather, I sprinted as fast as I could. Anywhere but there. I felt suffocated, like I was underwater; my movements were in slow motion, I couldn't breathe, and I felt cold. I almost choked mid-run because of how suffocated I felt.

I soon arrived at the roof. I needed the air. A sigh escaped my shaking lips, and I shakily walked to the fence. I rested on a bench and thought again.

Why does it seem like I can't satisfy anyone? I can't even satisfy myself...I wish I could just forget... I couldn't stop thinking about how I felt after cutting. I want to forget..this horrid feeling...

~•~

Yet another world meeting. These things had become something I dreaded coming to.

This time, Germany took the reigns of the meeting, and I sat calmly. I listened. I found I didn't have much to say, so I didn't. Normally, I would butt in with something stupid, but I didn't. I just listened. I received some suspicious glances but no one approached me. At the very end though, Germany asked me, "America. Are you okay? You haven't said anything about anything." With a stare, I pondered, 'Is it that weird?'

"It's unnecessary." I stood up and walked out. England rushed up to me and questioned, "Why are you acting like this Alfred? So distan-"

It seems like I always cut him off with, "I don't care what you have to say England. All you ever do is hurt me with the dirty truth and pretty lies. Leave me alone." I don't want to hurt you again... That's all that'll happen if I talk to you. It seems that's the only thing I do. "America..." He whispered quietly. With a brush of shoulders, I pushed past him and walked out of the hall and the building.

Today, I will get rid of it. The biggest danger to those I love. The worst mistake ever. The ugliest being on Earth. The biggest idiot ever. Me. I'm unworthy to walk this planet as America, the country, and as Alfred, the person.

~•~

I walked into my mess of a house. There was flipped over furniture and lamps. The TV was smashed inwards. The kitchen had messes of food on the ground. The mirrors were shattered. I remember. I did this that day. The day I broke.

I walked past the wreckage and decided to leave it as it was. It doesn't matter. Not anymore. I was going to disappear.

I walked upstairs and grabbed some pills, my razor, and walked into the bathroom. When I reached my destination, I stripped. The bath water started to fill the tub as I morbidly reached for the cup I used for brushing my teeth and I filled it with water. The water soothingly slid the pills down my throat as I downed the whole bottle. I slid into the now filled tub and settled in.

"This is the end," I whispered as I grabbed my razor on the edge of the tub. I sliced deeply and agonizingly slowly until the flow of blood came rushing to meet the humid air of the bathroom. "Goodbye." I cried. You all never liked me anyways. I was always the annoying America...the one who messed up everything was me. I should have never been born. Canada was right. I stole the light from him. I didn't deserve the attention I received in place of him. France, you were right. Hah. My food sucks and I pig out all the time for no damn good enough reason. Russia, I did treat you wrong, I am sorry. Your people have suffered from our rivalry battles. England, you raised me right, but I was in the wrong. I kicked you to the curb and neglected you; I didn't want to have anything to do with you. I'm sorry. I started to sob. The tears met with the unforgiving, hot water.

I have failed you all. Now I will die for you.

Then, the door slammed open. I opened my eyes to meet shocked green orbs. The poor Brit froze there for a moment to mentally compose himself, and then, he ran over to me.

"America, oh God, you git. You idiotic git! Why did you do this to yourself?!" He started crying as he drained the tub. "Get up! Get out you git! Bloody git." He sobbed as he yanked on my shoulder.

I started to get dizzy and I slowly tilted my head to face his face. "Iggy, I can't move...I'm going to die. Sorry, I didn't just cut..." I sighed as I leveled my breathing. Tears streamed down my eyes as I weakly pointed to the empty bottle on the counter.

England slowly moved his eyes to follow my finger. "Oh God." He gasped. He yanked his phone out and rapidly dialed three numbers. "Help...help! Please! Um...yes.....19...7....Palm .....now....suicide...empt...yeah..." England's voice faded into silence like a broken radio that finally stopped working. Have I died now?

~•~

Although I saw darkness, I heard voices. These voices were cries. Cries of agony. Cries of sadness. Why are people crying? Is that England I hear? Canada? Why?

The sooner I gained more senses, the sooner I realized my situation. I tried to kill myself. And I failed. Weakly, I groaned in frustration. Nobody should have helped me because nobody cares!

"Al?" I heard my twin call out. I felt a rough shaking on my shoulders and it slowly faded away. "Stop Matthew. He isn't awake." I heard an English voice I knew so well. My eyes shot open along with my body, and I gripped England's arm.

All the sudden, I was attacked by white. "Argh!" I grunted in pain as I fell back down into a laying position with my eyes squeezed shut, not letting go of England's arm in the process. "Alfred...?" England weakly questioned me. I tried to pretend to be asleep. "Al...stop." Canada begged.

I peeked an eye open at my twin for a few seconds and gave up. With a sigh, I replied, "Hey..."

I'm so awkward. Apparently, my open greeting was the key to the door of unanswered questions for my brothers. England stared for a while and finally began with, "why?"

In this situation, the wall behind England suddenly became fascinating. "Alfie?" He pressed. I glanced at him then back at the wall. "I wanted to die. I could write out a list of reasons why I wanted to die, but I wanted to die. The end," I stated flatly.

"Why did you want to die Al?" Canada jumped into the conversation. I glanced at Canada then back at the wall. "How about this?" I started bitterly. "For every reason you ever have had to hate me or my country, I have a reason to hate myself," I ended flatly again.

England and Canada exchanged glances. "America, we don't hate you." England spoke up. Canada nodded in agreement. With a scornful exasperated noise, I looked up at them in disbelief. "In what way do you not hate me. Canada, you said so yourself that you hated me that time in the car! Don't try to lie to me now! And England, it is pretty clear by what you say and do that you don't appreciate my presence." I sighed at the end. "Stop lying to me." I whispered.

England gripped my hand hard and yanked me into a hug. He whispered, "I could never hate you. Even after the revolution, I still loved you. Please, don't hurt yourself. When you do that, you hurt us even more." Then he released me from his hug and continued in a normal voice, "Besides, me and Canada are hitting pretty close to bottom economically, so we are grumpy. Whatever we said, it was just because we were taking our problems out on others." Canada ran to the other side of the bed and hugged my waist. "Don't ever leave us again Al!" Canada cried. I stared at the wall in utter shock.

I pulled myself out of my disbelief to carefully explain, "It still hurts. The words...it hurts." Did they honestly care? Can I believe them? "We love you Al. I'm so sorry we mistreated you. We truly love you." England retreated with a crying mess of Canada by his side. Visiting times were over, so they left.

~•~

I finally left the hospital but my mind was not completely healed. I still felt like a little piece of shit that didn't deserve life. I hurt my brothers, why-

"America!" England called out from the kitchen. I walked down stairs. "Yes?" came my call. England stared at me and then smiled. "Oh nothing. Dinner is ready. Canada made it." With a smile, I sat down at the table with pancakes to welcome me.

As we sat down, we had normal conversations and we receded to our rooms; except, England and Canada have shifts in sharing my room with me. This time England has the week in my room.

After I laid down ready for bed, England slipped under the blanket and hugged me. "Alfie, do you know how much life you bring to our lives, everyone's lives?" I listened.

"I think I would kill myself if you died," his voice cracked. Silence followed. How could I ever have doubted this man's, my brother's, love. Then, I spoke up, hugging the man back, "Artie, I love you."

After I had settled in, I released a few tears. "I'm sorry Artie..." I whispered as I cried into his chest. "I thought no one cared...I felt so hollow. So empty..." I sobbed quietly. "Thank you." I shakily ended. I loosened my grip as I got more tired.

"I love you too Al." His voice danced in my head as the first peaceful night overtook me. 

That was the first step of the healing process.

Love.

~•~


End file.
